A man stared sharply ahead. His tall, broad figure clad in heavy armor radiated strength and authority. He was Zhong Yi, the undefeated war general of the Ming Dynasty.
Behind him, hundreds of thousands of soldiers stood with weapons drawn, ready to act at a moment's command. Their piercing gazes exuded a powerful sense of intimidation.
Pride and honor were at stake in this battle. Defeat would bring disgrace to the Ming Dynasty, renowned as the conqueror of other dynasties. They had already subdued four kingdoms, uniting them under the grand banners bearing the Dragon insignia.
Before them loomed a towering wall, the fortress made of stacked mountain stones. It stood arrogantly, as if to mock them: Conquer me if you dare.
Atop the fortress walls, thousands of archers stood ready, their arrows nocked, awaiting the enemy to step within range.
Zhong Yi squinted. A thin smile formed on his lips, mocking the defensive preparations of the Han Dynasty forces, which he considered outdated.
"Shield units, advance!" he commanded loudly.
Thousands of soldiers marched forward. In their hands, they carried iron shields, which they quickly arranged into a turtle-shell formation to protect themselves from the incoming arrows. These soldiers then broke into small groups of ten to twenty men, their shields joined to form half-circles that fully enclosed them inside.
The archers of the Han Dynasty were taken aback by this formation—a new tactic they had never seen before. But even so, no fear crossed their minds. For them, pride and honor meant never surrendering, even in the face of death. Even if they had to die, they would fight to defend the sovereignty of their homeland.
---
The skies over the Han Dynasty's royal capital darkened. Smoke billowed from the three main fortresses that had already fallen—burned, destroyed, and soaked in blood. The screams of the dying, the blare of war trumpets, and the distant thunder of cannons formed the final symphony of a crumbling civilization.
Inside the nearly deserted palace's grand hall, Emperor Yun Hao stood tall before the few remaining court officials. Exhaustion and gloom clouded the faces of all present. Yet the ruler of the Han Dynasty remained sharp-eyed, resolute, his gaze ablaze with the spirit of final resistance.
"I will never surrender this nation to the greedy hands of the Ming Dynasty!" His voice thundered through the grand hall, which soon would likely be reduced to rubble. "If you see the sunrise tomorrow, consider it a blessing. If not, let our names be recorded in history as the last guardians of the Han Dynasty's honor!"
All who were present bowed deeply, their eyes glistening, their chests heaving with the turmoil of fear and honor.
---
In the emperor's private chamber, the lanterns burned steadily despite the sounds of battle shaking the earth outside. Bao An, a young general not yet twenty-five years old, knelt before his emperor.
"Bao An," Emperor Yun Hao's voice was heavy. "You must take Yun Xia away tonight. Trust no one but me. I can sense betrayal within our own walls."
Bao An lowered his head and gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. "Your Majesty's order will be fulfilled, even at the cost of my life."
From a hidden drawer in a desk carved with the figure of an eagle, Emperor Yun Hao retrieved a silk scroll sealed with red wax and a jade pendant shaped like an eagle. He clutched them both tightly before handing them to Bao An.
"When Yun Xia is old enough, give these to him. Inside this scroll lies the final secret of the Han Dynasty."
---
Meanwhile, outside the southern palace gates…
Zhong Yi spurred his horse forward to the front lines. The night wind swept his long war cloak, and the dust of battle swirled around his horse's steps. He raised his hand, and the entire army halted.
"Battering units, prepare!"
Thunder rumbled in the distance, but a louder sound came from the thousands of galloping horses as the Ming Dynasty's elite soldiers, armed with battering tools, charged forward like a storm, slamming the massive wooden gates of the palace with tremendous force. The first impact shook the entire structure.
Atop the walls, Han Dynasty archers rained deadly arrows down upon them. But the Ming Dynasty's shield units had already formed their turtle-shell formation. The arrows struck but only embedded themselves in the iron shields. Some bounced off, some pierced through, but none could stop the advancing troops.
"This is nothing!" Zhong Yi roared. "The final blood will be spilled tonight!"
---
In the palace's rear corridors, Bao An wrapped Yun Xia, a nine-year-old boy, in a black cloak. The boy sobbed quietly, knowing his life was forever changed that night.
"Uncle Bao…," he whispered. "Father will survive, won't he?"
Bao An was silent for a moment. He gently stroked the boy's head and lied softly, "Of course, Prince. Your father is the strongest emperor of the Han Dynasty."
They slipped through secret passageways known only to the palace's inner circle. But they were unaware that traitorous forces had already surrounded the western side.
One of the palace guards, Jian Ma, who once served Emperor Yun Hao, had now turned into a loyal dog of the Ming Dynasty. His bloodthirsty gaze led a small squad to ambush Bao An.
But Bao An was no ordinary young general. With a swift slash, he decapitated the guard who blocked his path and continued carrying Yun Xia through the darkness.
Behind them, the palace began to burn. Flames spread from wing to wing, while the Ming Dynasty forces finally breached the main gate. The Han Dynasty's soldiers fought to the last man, defending their honor with their lives.
Emperor Yun Hao stood on the grand staircase, wearing his final imperial robe. One by one, the Ming soldiers stormed the palace, but he remained standing—calm, firm, and unshaken. His eyes remained sharp, fully aware that his kingdom was falling.
With his ancestral sword gleaming under the fire's glow, he charged into the battlefield. Dozens of Ming soldiers awaited him with swords and spears at the ready.
Atop the burning palace walls, the flag of the Han Dynasty fluttered for the last time before it finally collapsed and was consumed by flames. At that moment, Emperor Yun Hao fell, three spears piercing his body, ending with a sword strike that severed his head.
---
Meanwhile, far from the palace, Bao An and Yun Xia ascended Mount Huashan. Each step weighed heavily upon them, but that night, the sky revealed a glimmer of hope—the morning star shining brightly in the east.
At the mountain's peak, Yun Xia would one day meet Cia Sun, the Golden Lion, and from there, the new destiny of the Han Dynasty would be rewritten.
But on that night, the Han Dynasty officially fell. Yet, the Last Heir survived. No one would ever expect that the spark of the Han Dynasty still burned—and one day, it would ignite again.