At the heart of the Chen Kingdom's capital, deep within Kaelan's spirit space, a subtle shift unfolds.
Quietly—precisely—he begins separating a fragment of consciousness from the newly-formed core.
Like untangling silk from silk, the process requires patience. Threads divide, form structure, then compress into a stable secondary consciousness node—a proto-chip for the future clone technique.
When the final strand locks into place, Kaelan exhales.
It is done.
---
He walks out of the palace and steps into the garden.
Leaves rustle.
A shadow cuts through the sky.
A crow swoops down and lands neatly on his shoulder, feathers trembling as it caws in rapid, frantic tones.
Kaelan listens without interrupting.
When the crow finally grows quiet, he nods once—understanding the report.
A drop of his blood rises from his fingertip.
He presses it onto the crow's back. The drop sinks into feathers, melts into runes—binding message, command, and a faint spark of consciousness.
The crow spreads its wings and takes off, vanishing into the distant sky.
---
The next day, Kaelan halts his cultivation and steps into the newly established parliament hall.
The chamber feels unfinished yet full of intent—stone pillars, banners, and layered seating forming the shape of a new political order.
On one side, twenty-four representatives—the newly formed parliament—sit in solemn rows.
On the opposite side, elevated above them, Kaelan takes his seat.
Not on a throne.
Not where a king would sit.
But where power chooses to rest.
His presence alone settles the room into silence.
The meeting begins.
Jiang Lan rises first, voice steady but strained:
"Ren Kingdom has sent a declaration of war."
Silence spreads—heavy, unavoidable.
Kaelan's gaze sweeps the room.
Then, coldly:
"Why are you silent? Did none of you consider the consequences of your decisions—or were you all blinded by greed?"
Their expressions tighten.
These were the people who first betrayed their own royal family, wiping out the Chen lineage with the help of the Ren Kingdom.
Then, when opportunity shifted, they betrayed the Ren Kingdom.
Now the debt returns.
Of course, Ren Kingdom wouldn't accept humiliation—not after losing face, resources, and even a Divine Mind cultivator. War was the only answer.
Jiang Lan continues, voice lower:
"They added terms to the declaration. The war will be fought only by mortal soldiers and martial artists from Third Grade to First Grade. Commanders must be Qi Sensing realm. Anyone above that realm is forbidden from intervening."
Kaelan leans back, tone flat:
"Then this is already favourable for all of you."
Because if Divine Mind experts were allowed, the Ren Kingdom could simply send ten—and end the Chen Kingdom overnight.
But even this restriction wasn't merciful.
It was humiliation.
Su Ren speaks next, a frown cutting into his features:
"We're still at a disadvantage. Their land is larger. Their population is greater. Even with equal ranks… their numbers overwhelm us. We cannot win."
Kaelan's reply is immediate:
"You don't need to win. You only need to hold."
He lifts his hand.
"Bring the map."
A guard bows and rushes out.
Kaelan sits in silence while they wait—eyes half-closed—thoughts trailing elsewhere.
Why am I involving myself this deeply?
His true desire was simple:
Return to the Wizard Academy.
Develop the Wizard Civilisation.
Deduce the Clone Technique.
Advance.
A clone could stand in the Tang Kingdom.
Another clone could handle Chen Kingdom affairs.
But neither clone currently had the strength to shape the outcome of a war or stabilise a nation.
So—until his technique was complete—he was chained here.
Kaelan exhales.
Then I can only end this quickly.
The map arrives.
And the strategy begins.
Kaelan's first instruction is simple and absolute:
"No support will come from the Tang Kingdom."
The room stiffens. No one argues.
Dugu Jian steps forward, unfurling the map fully across the table. He studies it, then taps three points with his finger:
"These three locations can stop Ren Kingdom's advance."
Kaelan looks.
The eastern border of the Chen Kingdom is mostly exposed plains—but halfway up, the terrain shifts. A stretch of low hills and dense forest forms a natural barrier. Perfect for traps. Perfect for an ambush. Perfect to bleed an invading army.
Next—he taps the centre.
"Greendew Lake."
A vast body of water that divides the plains. If the Chen Kingdom deploys a navy there, they can strike any force attempting to bypass the northern defences. Slow them. Harass them. Trap them.
Finally, his finger moves south.
"Meiquan City."
A fortress-city.
If Ren Kingdom fails to seize it and tries circling south, they expose their rear—because deep beneath Meiquan is a tunnel linking it to Tanbor City closer inland.
A secret route. A knife behind enemy lines.
It's not a flawless strategy.
But for now, it is the best they have.
Before Kaelan speaks, Ji Anyun and three other faction leaders raise their hands.
"We object to this plan."
A murmur rises.
Ji Anyun continues, tone rigid:
"If we follow this strategy, we will abandon half the eastern territory. Those lands belong to us."
Arguments explode instantly.
Supporters counter:
"It's the only way to defend the kingdom!"
Voices stack, tempers sharpen, and the room fractures—
—until Kaelan's pressure falls like a hammer.
Chairs shake. Breath trembles. The hall goes silent.
Kaelan looks directly at Ji Anyun.
"Do you have a better plan?"
Ji Anyun hesitates—then bitterly:
"No. But we will not hand over our lands. If we do, don't expect us to shoulder the consequences."
Rage ignites on the other side. Jiang Lan stands, face cold:
"Are you implying you will support Ren Kingdom instead?"
Ji Anyun scoffs.
"I didn't say that—you did."
The tension spikes—bordering on violence.
Kaelan's voice cuts through:
"Enough."
Silence again.
"For now, we follow this plan."
His gaze sharpens—not angry, but absolute.
"Ren Kingdom will not commit to a long war if their losses outweigh their gains. And they are not only fighting us. Their enemies watch as well. They cannot bleed endlessly."
Dugu Jian nods.
"Ji Anyun… we have no better option."
Jiang Lan adds, calmer now:
"Once the war ends, you will reclaim your land."
Ji Anyun snorts.
"And find it looted and destroyed."
Kaelan rises.
"You oppose because you believe that land belongs to you."
His tone deepens.
"During war, it belongs to the kingdom."
A beat of silence.
"From today, taxes will rise by twenty per cent. Half will fund the army. The other half will compensate those who lose territory."
Jiang Lan immediately protests:
"That will strain the people—"
Kaelan cuts him off:
"If one faction weakens, all weaken. A fractured kingdom is already defeated."
No one speaks after that.
Kaelan turns, cloak trailing behind him, and leaves the chamber.
As he steps into the courtyard, his thoughts are already shifting—cold, calculating:
How do I neutralise Ren Kingdom's greatest advantage—numbers?
The answer is simple.
Not easy—but simple.
Modern warfare.
Not the version with tanks, drones and missiles—he is centuries away from that.
But the foundation?
Gunpowder.
Kaelan's gaze sharpens.
Saltpeter. Charcoal. Sulfur.
Potassium nitrate—the key ingredient—might exist in the bat-infested cave systems of the Black Mountain Range. In his past life, bat guano was one of the earliest usable sources. He isn't certain if that holds true in this world—but it's the fastest starting point.
He summons guards.
"Search the western caves. Bring any bat droppings you find—quickly."
The guards bow and vanish into the night.
---
Kaelan returns to his cultivation room.
While waiting, he focuses inward—not on the body, but the mind.
The core of consciousness pulses softly—like a heart made of thought.
It is incomplete.
Creating the clone for the Tang Kingdom cost him several threads of consciousness, reducing both his deduction speed and spirit materialisation percentage. To reach one hundred per cent, he must regrow what was spent.
So he nourishes the core—thread by thread.
Outside, the world moves.
Inside, everything is silent.
---
Meanwhile, the Chen Kingdom mobilises.
Armies march.
Supplies are evacuated from the east.
Temporary camps form around the three strategic points.
The war machine creaks from chaos into order.
Time passes.
---
Two days later—at dawn—the crow returns to Tang Capital.
It drops a bead of blood into the waiting clone's palm.
The clone places it into the consciousness-nourishing array. The formation activates with a low hum, spiritual energy pouring into the blood.
The blood expands—shifts—reshapes—
—and a second clone steps out.
Two identical Kaelans stand facing each other.
The first smiles faintly and says:
"From today, I am One. You are Two."
Kaelan-2 nods without objection.
No ego.
No confusion.
Just function.
Together, they step out of the chamber.
Outside the room, the palace guards stare—speechless—watching two identical figures stride past them as if nothing strange has occurred.
The clones don't acknowledge the shock.
They continue walking.
Because for them—
—This is only the beginning.
The age of Wizardry is about to accelerate.
---