China was not whole yet.
Kingdoms still clung to borders drawn in blood and ambition, and armies marched under banners that would one day be forgotten. That fragmentation made conquest efficient—and profitable.
My forces advanced at dawn.
Villages were stripped of supplies. Armories seized. Soldiers either fled, surrendered, or died. This was not cruelty. It was logistics. War in this era rewarded decisiveness.
When resistance formed, I stepped forward.
The Red Ring flared.
Fire erupted from my hand in a roaring wave, tearing through shield walls and siege lines alike. Men scattered as heat and smoke swallowed their formation.
I followed immediately with the White Ring.
Wind screamed into existence—compressed, violent. The battlefield bent under its force as a spiraling current tore through the enemy ranks, lifting soldiers from the ground and hurling them aside like broken leaves.
The battle was already decided.
Then—
Something hit my barrier.
Not a spell.
Not a siege weapon.
A bracelet.
Blue energy flared as it slammed into the invisible wall I'd raised instinctively. The impact echoed like a bell struck by a god.
I narrowed my eyes.
Another bracelet followed.
Then another.
Each strike carried intelligence—controlled, deliberate, powerful.
I turned toward the source.
He stood alone at the edge of the battlefield.
Tall. Calm. Armored not in steel, but in confidence.
Ten blue-glowing bracelets circled his forearms, humming with alien resonance.
Xu Wenwu.
The true Mandarin.
So this was the convergence point.
Without a word, he snapped his arm forward.
The bracelets detached, streaking toward me like living weapons, whipping through the air with impossible speed. I vanished in a flash of violet light—teleportation—reappearing several meters away as the rings tore through empty space.
I didn't pause.
The Black Ring surged, forming a dense barrier just as Wenwu redirected the bracelets back toward me. They struck again—harder.
I answered.
Dark energy exploded from my palm, slamming into him and driving him backward through the churned earth. He skidded, recovered instantly, and sent the bracelets spiraling again—five this time—aimed to entangle rather than strike.
I raised the White Ring once more.
A localized tornado formed between us, shredding the air itself. Dust, debris, and shattered weapons vanished into the spinning wall as his rings punched through the storm, forcing me to reinforce my defenses.
Impressive.
Dangerous.
But predictable.
The Black Ring absorbed the impact as I shifted tactics.
Fire burst from the Red Ring, colliding with the blue energy midair in a violent clash of elements. The explosion forced Wenwu back another step.
That was all I needed.
I activated the Orange Ring.
The ground beneath him hissed as corrosive energy enveloped his position, cutting off escape. Wenwu reacted instantly, recalling his bracelets to shield himself—but he was a fraction too slow.
The battle ended.
When the energy dissipated, the field fell silent.
Xu Wenwu lay still.
The man who would one day be myth.
I exhaled once, steadying myself.
Then raised my hand.
The Purple Ring answered.
Gravity shifted.
The ten blue bracelets trembled, lifted from where they had fallen, and floated toward me, obedient now to a stronger will. I drew them close and placed them carefully into my satchel.
Not as trophies.
As assets.
Around us, the remaining enemy forces had already broken. My soldiers stood frozen, staring at the aftermath—not cheering, not shouting.
They had just witnessed legend overwrite legend.
I looked across the battlefield, smoke curling into the sky.
The Ten Rings had an origin once.
Now they had an ending.
And a new beginning.