Chapter 53: A Strike from the Great Xia!

The atmosphere was suffocatingly oppressive.

Out on the high seas, the once-turbulent waves had stilled, as if cowed into silence by the moment. Overhead, a swath of inky-black clouds stained the heavens.

“So, we’re done pretending?” Shang Weitian grinned at the assembled ambassadors.

“It’s over,” Jill replied, his anger fading into a cold blankness. “Your nation’s rise has been far too swift.”

“I honestly never wished it would come to this,” he continued, “but I never imagined you’d find such a solution. If we let your country keep growing, none of us—nor the nations we represent—would sleep soundly again.”

The other ambassadors, faces equally expressionless, stepped forward to stand with Jill. Their stance was clear.

Jill tossed a thick document onto the table. “It’s been ready for a while. Sign it.”

Shang Weitian leafed through it, his face unmoved.

“Oh, how neatly you’ve parceled it out,” he said, fixing his gaze on the diplomats before him. “The Tortoise Fields want Qingcheng, Britannia takes Port City, the Free States take Austra City… I see you’ve had this mapped out for some time.”

“Mr. Shang, let’s not make it sound so ugly. It’s a lease,” Jill declared, righteous and unyielding. “Mind your language. We are not thieves.”

“We simply request that your nation pays for the steel resources not with Free States bonds, but with leaseholds.”

“One hundred years, nothing more.”

“This isn’t the first time your country has faced such a thing, is it?” A sly, amused smile curled at the corner of Jill’s lips.

Shang Weitian’s expression stayed unchanged, but his fists clenched tight.

Lease!

Such a grandiose word.

He felt his blood boil, a wildfire of rage blazing in his chest, burning him alive.

A century ago.

There had been another elder, forced beneath international pressure to sign away land and dignity.

Back then, his nation was weak.

And now, a hundred years on, was he to sign another humiliating treaty, bullied by the same powers? The scene before him mirrored that painful past almost exactly.

“Be smart. I know you don’t want this,” Jill said with a smile. “But do you really think we’d come to these international waters for a meeting without being prepared?”

He snapped his fingers.

Immediately, squads of armed Free States soldiers marched in through the doors, weapons at the ready, barrels aimed squarely at Shang Weitian.

“Today, your presence here means you represent your entire nation.”

“This treaty, you’ll sign it whether you want to or not,” Jill said, his smile cold and menacing.

“Damn it…” Even Shang Weitian couldn’t suppress a curse.

He lunged at Jill, who instinctively jumped back, but before Jill could react further, Shang Weitian turned and ran toward the wall.

He raised his right hand high.

With a sickening thud, he smashed his fist into the wall, flesh and bone mangled.

“He’s trying to break his arm—stop him!” Jill shouted, catching on at once.

A squad of Free States soldiers rushed in, pinning Shang Weitian to the ground and kicking him viciously.

“His arm’s not broken!” one checked, hauling the battered man upright.

Jill wiped sweat from his brow as he looked at Shang Weitian, a flicker of respect in his eyes.

“Your people have real backbone,” he admitted. “But the fact remains: you’ll sign, one way or another. I know you’re not afraid to die—none of your people are.”

“But did you really think we came unprepared?” Jill motioned to the window. “Look out there.”

Shang Weitian turned.

On the surging blue waves outside, steel warships—monstrous and roaring—stood arrayed like beasts. On their decks, fighter jets gleamed with cold, hard light.

Cannons swiveled in silence, missiles poised and aimed straight at his homeland.

The world seemed to hold its breath; the black clouds pressed lower, swallowing the sky.

“If you refuse, I know you don’t fear death. But your countrymen—how many innocents will suffer for it?” Jill said, looking toward the far-off land. “Your military is strong, but can you really stand against all our nations united?”

“Or even if you could, before you could mount a defense, how many of your cities do you think we’d obliterate?”

Shang Weitian stared, stunned, at the massed warships flying a dozen flags, dominating the sea.

“If you refuse, you’ll be the criminal of your nation—the one who doomed your people. You’ll be nailed to the pillar of shame, cursed for refusing to sign.”

Jill’s tone was biting. “You’re not afraid of death, but you are united. United enough to not want your people to die.”

“A century under our lease is better than watching your cities reduced to ashes, isn’t it?” Jill’s voice was soft, almost gentle. “At least under our jurisdiction, your people will live in safety. Am I wrong?”

With that, Jill turned his back.

“Now, sign.”

Shang Weitian’s hand trembled as he picked up the pen.

A treaty of concession.

Dressed up, it was nothing more than trading a century’s lease of several regions for steel.

In this moment, he was not himself—he stood for his homeland, and for its 1.4 billion souls.

Should he sign, the agreement would carry the full weight of international law.

For a long time, the always-gentlemanly Shang Weitian was silent. Then, in a sudden motion, he hurled the pen straight at the back of Jill’s head.

“Go to hell! Why don’t you just kill me now?”

Jill turned, glaring. “Aren’t you afraid—?”

Shang Weitian spat bloody saliva at his feet. “Afraid you’ll start a war? Are you even worthy?”

“Maybe I alone would fear you—but do you think all 1.4 billion of us are afraid?”

“If even a single one of your missiles ever lands on our soil, I’ll write my name backward for life!”

Staring at the savage, bloodied face of Shang Weitian, Jill was silent for a moment.

“Fine. Perhaps you need to see the coffin before you weep.”

He lifted the radio and spoke a few words.

On the warships, missiles were primed.

Time seemed to freeze. On the flagship’s deck, an officer turned to face the distant land, his finger poised above a button.

The black clouds pressed down, threatening to swallow the sky.

And then, suddenly, the heavens rippled.

A piercing, blinding light tore across the sea, faster than the eye could follow, hurtling from the east.

In an instant, it sliced through the thousands of warships arrayed on the water.

That ray of light, brilliant and cold, split the darkness and set the sea ablaze with fire.

It was—

A blade from the homeland.

“So, war it is?”

“Then let’s see if you can withstand this strike!”

With the flash of that blade came the roar of a young warrior, echoing across the sky.